


Fool

by Dreams_of_Spring



Series: Afterwards [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jonerys, Makeup Sex, Sex, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 03:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18130415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreams_of_Spring/pseuds/Dreams_of_Spring
Summary: Following the birth of their first child, Jon and Dany find themselves becoming increasingly frustrated with each other. One night it all gets a bit much.





	Fool

 

 

It had been eight long weeks since his daughter had been born and Jon couldn’t think of a time he had been happier, nor more exhausted. Each time she woke and fussed in the night, he was dragged from sleep by an almost painful gripping fear that something was the matter. Daenerys had begun reassuring him before she slipped from between the sheets and reassured the tiny bundle. However much he tried to remind himself that they were safe, all of them, he couldn’t stop the feeling taking a hold of him. Life had settled into a new sort of normal, his wife’s temper had abated somewhat and she was altogether happier and calmer knowing that their child was safely delivered and both were still living and could enjoy this new life together. Jon would sometimes sit and watch as the babe suckled his wife but often times he found he had to walk away before he became jealous of his own child and the closeness she shared with Daenerys. He had not been intimate with his wife in two long months and it was starting to show. He had been unusually terse with the household staff and even Ser Davos today had been on the receiving end of a particularly short tempered king. More annoyingly, Daenerys didn’t seem to notice. He loved how much she adored their child, and he himself was blown away for the love he felt for the tiny being they had created together, but a small part of him couldn’t help but feel as if he had become redundant now that he had done his duty and sired an heir. He knew he was being ridiculous but he also couldn’t stop the thoughts from clouding his better judgement. Late at night p, as he listened to Daenerys hum sweet melodies through the darkness, his stomach clenched and twisted with jealousy.

 

 _._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

 

Settling the sleeping babe into the bassinet and tucking the soft, silken blankets snuggly around her, Daenerys marvelled at the child she and Jon had created. The past few months had slipped by in a blissful blur of new smells and sounds and feelings that she never dreamed she would experience. And through it all, her faithful husband had been by her side. Doting and dutiful as she knew he would be. Knowing the tiny Princess would likely remain in her peaceful slumber for a number of hours, Daenerys decided to treat herself to the indulgence of a bath, knowing that the hot water would be welcome to sooth her still-tender flesh and wash away the day of crud that babies bring. She waited happily as the tub was filled with piping hot water and thought about where her husband could be hiding. Slipping into the bath as soon as it was full, the water hugged her skin like a well made glove, fitting into every nook and cranny it could find. She scrubbed at her flesh until it glowed red and took the time to wash and shave all the places she had recently neglected, getting a glorious thrill as she slid the blade between her legs. _Oh, Jon, if you stay away too long you will miss this opportunity!_ When the water grew tepid and she tired of waiting, Daenerys lifted her dripping limbs from the water and wrapped a thick towel around herself, shivering in the cool night-air.

 

  _._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

 

When he had still not returned an hour later, Daenerys decided to check where he was. Slipping down the staircase to the floor below she asked one of the Unsullied on guard to go and find the King and report back to her. Another was sent to fetch Missandei. Her ever-attentive friend appeared almost instantly, happy to see that there was no pressing issue. News of Jon’s whereabouts took a little longer to be delivered, but Daenerys felt happy when she heard he was within the castle walls. “The king is in the great hall, My Queen. He drink many cups of pale drink and talk very loud with councilmen.” Daenerys smiled to herself. _Is that right._ Knowing she was leaving the Princess in the tender care of Missandei, Daenerys descended the stairs once again, this time passing the guards, and continuing down towards High Gardens great hall. Even in just her silk robe, Daenerys felt aflame, the fire inside her fending off the chill in the air. _You_ _drink_ _yourself_ _into_ _a_ _stupor_ _while_ _your_ _wife_ _and child remain alone, Jon? No. That will not do._

 

  _._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

 

As the man across from him finished recounting exactly why he had been named Two Pump Tom, Jon took another pull of ale, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of the amber liquid caressing his tongue. _One more and I may be able to fall asleep beside her without jumping her as she sleeps._ Through his hazy thoughts he began to notice the laughter die away around him, and when he opened his eyes, the men opposite him looked slightly shocked. Drunk, his brain struggled to make sense of the matter. But when a voice echoed across then room, he caught up fast. “Leave us, please.” _So calm._ He thought, absently. _Too calm._ Swallowing, he nodded to the men as they quickly shuffled out of the oak doors opposite him. The sound of the latch echoed through the large room. Not wanting to turn around and accept his scolding, Jon picked up his tankard and drained it. _Liquid courage._ Silence settled around him, punctuated only by the crackle of the logs on the fire to his left.

 

 

 _Won’t he even look at me? Have I done something? Said something?_ Daenerys though they had been the definition of happy these few months passed but maybe she was wrong. Equal measures of rage and fear filled her. _How dare he hide down here if he has a problem. We don’t hide from each other._ Taking a single step forward, she thought over her next words. “Jon?” She asked quietly. “We’ve been waiting upstairs for you.” Pausing she took a steadying breath. “Am I to believe that you’d prefer being down here, getting drunk with your men, rather than upstairs, with your family?” The silence was so deafening, it hurt her ears. Tears slipped from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, soaking into the silk covering her shoulders. Sniffing, she tried once more. “Jon? Please. Talk to me.”

 

 

“You want to talk, huh? When was the last time you and I actually talked?” He spat quietly, still refusing to turn and face her. “Don’t be ridiculous!” She fired back immediately. “We speak everyday. I share everything with you.” His laugh made her stomach drop, a sharp pain hitting her low in her belly. _That is not a happy laugh._ “Yes, love. True.” Came his biting response. “But how long the babe has slept… how frequently she has fed and from which of your breasts she last suckled… these are not conversations. Seven Hells, I hear about when she last _soiled_ herself.  Words shared, Daenerys, I do agree. But, when did _we_ last speak to each other about  _anything_ else?” Daenerys swallowed. The truth of his words were a little more painful to accept than she had been expecting. While she still simmered with rage inside at his petulance, she was also aware that her husband had found in her a love that he’d yearned a lifetime for. She could see that however petulant he was being, he also seemed to be hurting. “Okay. What is it that you want, Jon?”

 

 

 

Standing so quickly, the bench Jon had been sat on scrapped angrily across the flagstones. “You!” He bellowed, much louder than he’d intended. The copious cups of ale seemed to have quietly fuelled the fire within him. “I _want_ you! I _need_ you! And God damn it, Daenerys… I wish you needed me!” Turning back to the table, he searched for his drink, only to find it empty. Sighing heavily, he turned back towards her, now feeling completely dejected. It was then that he took in her appearance. _Fuck_! Her gown left absolutely no room for guess work. Her breasts were barely contained by the silk garment and her nipples strained against the smooth fabric. The tie at her waist looked as if it had been done in a hurry and was scrunched up in an angry knot that pulled the fabric taut at her waist. And although the cream silk fell all the way to the floor, it split open just below the juncture of her thighs, giving him a generous view of both her legs. Jon couldn’t stop himself as he emitted a desperate groan _. No point enjoying the view, she’s likely come to scold me and then return to check on the babe._ Jon was so angry at her for being so enticing and so angry at himself for his inability to grow up and accept her new role as a mother. _I know it won’t be forever that our daughter needs her in this way._ Sighing, he tried hard to calm himself down. “I think, my love, I got a little used to being needed by you. Sharing is proving to be a bit of a challenge.” Bone-tired, he turned and allowed his heavy limbs to give in. Slumping back onto the bench, his elbows resting on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands.

 

  

 

Daenerys felt winded. Every memory of the last few weeks, of their new family, felt like a lie. _Did I see it only as I wanted to? Has he been miserable this whole time and I have not noticed?_ She felt sick. Walking towards him, she stopped just a single step from his slumped over form and watched his back as he took slow, even breaths. She hadn’t felt this alone in a long time. Needing to reach out, to make some sort of contact, she placed the flat of her right hand to the middle of his back. “I do need you.” She reassured him quietly, knowing that however stupid and selfish he was being, the truth behind those words would never change. “Jon… I need you now more than I ever have before. I’m… _sorry_ if you ever doubted that.” When she moved her hand up to his shoulder, he reached out and took it in his own, holding onto her firmly. When he turned and pressed his lips to her palm, she caught a glimpse of his anguished face, and Daenerys felt her heart ache for him.

 

 

 

 _Just pull your hand away, slap me hard across my face for all I care. Just be done with it so I may return to my ale and the numbness it provides._ Jon felt himself slip deeper into the dark pit of despair and knew that the only thing keeping him afloat was her hand against his cheek. He almost cried out when she began pulling it away, but he knew it was what he deserved. _Pathetic. Feeling abandoned by your wife who is only loving and caring for your baby daughter_. Would he be able to come back from this? So when she wrapped her arms around him, entombing him in her embrace, he clutched onto her and couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. He was too tired and too drunk to keep from falling apart. He wanted so much to turn and face her, but he was terrified that him moving would break this spell. She buried her face in his loose hair, her nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck. When she placed a kiss upon his skin, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Oh, Daenerys. I want nothing more than to spread you out on this table…and… and feast on every inch of your flesh. I feel like I’ve been starved of you and I’m going out of my mind. Forgive me, love. Please. But I cannot live without you.”

 

 

 

As his words sunk in, as the sentiment behind them washed through her, Daenerys felt her heart hammer inside her chest. Loosening her arms, she extracted her arms from his iron grip and peeled herself away from him. She then walked around the end of the bench and back toward him, until she was stood before him, not behind him. The look he gave her reminded her of the first time that they had ever made love. The look that made her think he was questioning whether or not she were real. Lowering her chin, she held his gaze as she slipped her robe off her body. “I am yours… take me.”

 

 

 

Jon didn’t know where to begin, but he did know that he needed to touch her immediately. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and tugged at it, causing her to step between his spread legs. When he sucked in a calming breath, he got a lung full of her heady, musty scent. Groaning, he let his forehead fall against her soft stomach, taking in another deep breath. “Anyone might walk in, love.” He uttered, desperately trying to restrain himself in case she rescinded her offer. Her next words, however, caused the final fragment of restraint snap. “Well then… Let them stand and watch while you fuck their Queen.” Wrapping both hands around her waist, he wasted no time before he pressed his lips, then tongue, then teeth against the soft flesh of her stomach. The fresh scent of her filled the air around him, spurring him on. One hand still firmly holding her, the other he slid around to grip her arse, helping to hold her close as his mouth worshipped the place that, until recently, had housed their child. The previously stretched skin had flattened out again with only a smattering of streaks as evidence of it’s former glory. As he became hungrier for more, he slipped his fingers down between her arse checks until they finally met her dripping core. Her hot, hidden lips, were smooth against his finger tips and the excitement of what was to come made him grit his teeth and groan against her.

 

 

Daenerys may have come here in a mild fury, but she was certainly overcome by something else entirely now as her husband began his ministrations. _Oh, how I’ve missed this._ Without even realising it, she’d neglected the nagging reminders that, first and foremost, she was a woman. When he slipped a single finger up inside of her, she gasped, clutching his shoulders. Not even she had ventured there since the day their daughter had been born. Out of instinct, she cried out, quietly begging him. “Please… please try and be gentle, Jon.” At her words, he froze, which had not been her intention. When he withdrew from her and pulled away, she began to protest, but he stood and silenced her with a kiss before lifting her effortlessly up and onto the table. “Lie back,” he instructed, breathlessly. “Lie back and I swear to you, wife, that I will be good to you.”

 

 

 

Jon felt desperate. He didn’t know where to start and he didn’t know how he was going to control himself. He wanted to fill every slick channel in her body with as much of himself as possible. He wanted to taste every plane of skin, drink every drop of nectar she produced. And he wanted to do it all at once. He also wanted to be rough, he wanted to own her, body and soul. But her words rang clear in his ears. _Try and be gentle._ He knew she had been stretched beyond imagination delivering their daughter, he had heard Missandei and the midwife talk of it in the hectic hours that followed the birth. _Does she truly want to do this? Or is she doing it for me, to sate my wonton needs._ Mustering every vestibule of strength he had, he let go of her and sat himself back down on the bench. Sucking in a shuddering breath, Jon looked up at his wife once more. “We don’t have to do this, love. I… I don’t want you to feel you have to do this if you are not ready… if you don’t feel… recovered. Please don’t let my selfish needs cloud your better judgement… please. Tell me to stop now and I will, I may need to walk away, but you have my word, I will stop if you wish it.”

 

 

With her bottom perched near the edge of the table and her legs dangling down over the edge, Daenerys’ looked down at her own body. Her heaving breasts, her now-soft stomach, the freshly trimmed hairs between her legs, the past two months she had felt a strange power within her body knowing it had created life. When her daughter fussed and cried out for her, she took pride at the fact she knew what it was she needed and that she could provide it. She felt a love that she had never experienced before, felt fear unlike any she’d ever known grip her, but there was one thing she had not felt since the birth of her child and that was sexy. Her body had felt foreign, controlled by the wants of someone else entirely. _But, the way he is looking at me, the way he speaks of needing to have me…_ Holding his gaze, not wanting to break the link between them, Daenerys spoke from her soul to his. “At night, when she wakes, when I calm her and feed her, I lie next to you as you sleep, and I wonder how it is I can love you both so completely. I sit and study every mark on your flesh, every plane of skin exposed, I try and match my breathing to yours so that I feel closer to you, so that I feel part of you again. Since she was born, I’ve felt so confident as a mother, but so unsure about how to be your lover.” Swallowing, she groped for the words to continue. “I want you more now that I every did before. We created _life_ together. I want to create more life, more light, with you… like only you and I can. But I’m different now. I know I am. I feel different, inside and out. I’m soft where I was once supple. My skin marred where it was once flawless. I’m swollen and aching in places you used to grab and invade. And… as much as I want you, and need you, I’m so scared that all of these little changes in me, will make you want me less, need me less. That when you discover I’m different, when you find this out, you’ll lose interest in me. You won’t… desire me. And nothing terrifies me more than the thought of you not thinking.. not thinking of me… like that.”

 

  

 

Jon felt dumbstruck. While he had been brooding about her supposed disinterest, she had been worried about his. Naturally, neither had thought to speak of their fears to the other. Rising and nudging her thighs apart, he slotted between them and lent forward until his mouth was hovering above hers. “How could you think,” Jon breathed, his voice shuddering as he spoke. “That I could ever _not_ want you.” Kissing her, he ran one hand up the outside of her thigh, over her hip and then brought it up to cup her breast, groaning at the feel of it full and heavy in his palm. He pushed at her with his hand until she was pressed flat to the hardwood table, then he pulled away. “You think I haven’t noticed these changes. You think that those ‘marks’ on you… the new softness of you… these,” he emphasised, clutching her breast gently. “You think I don’t see them? I spend my days watching you, _wife_. And I spend my days falling _more_ in love with you.” Brushing his lips between her breasts, he thought over his next words. “You… _wife_ , fill my dreams and drive me wild. You, _wife_ , possess _all_ of my thoughts. You, _wife_ , are the only woman I want, now and always.” Standing upright once more, Jon admired the sight before him. Her flushed chest, her trembling chin, her heaving breasts. “It would seem that I have neglected you somewhat, _wife_. How can I make amends?”

 

 

 

Daenerys feared she might combust. She had hoped tonight they might be able to spend a little time alone together but, looking up at him know, she knew she was going to get more than she’d bargained for. Jon spoke as if he were about to consume her. He looked as is he was preparing to climb inside her. _Make amends? For loving me like only you do? Oh, Jon._ Closing her eyes for a moment, Daenerys tried to steady her heart rate. She didn’t need to tell him what to do. He knew how to play her body better than anyone. He knew exactly what she liked and how she liked it. He knew her better than she knew herself. Though her legs felt as heavy as lead, she lifted them up so she could perched her heels at the very edge of the table. Placing one hand between her now-spread thighs, she began to spread her arousal along her slit, her eyes never leaving his. “Do you want to taste?” She whispered. He responded with a single nod, his expression knocking the breath from her. Removing her now-glistening fingers, she lifted them up towards him.

 

 

 

 _Oh, Dany. What am I going to do with you?_ Jon took ahold of her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth. He lapped at her arousal, never looking away from her. When she was clean, he dropped her hand and traced his own finger down her rosey slit before slipping it slowly up her hot channel. He watched her closely as he worked the digit in and out, loving her blatant enjoyment. When he slipped two digits up inside her, she flinched, but smiled up at him reassuringly. Withdrawing both after a few shallow pumps, Jon repeated her question. “Do _you_ want to taste?” He didn’t need to wait long for her response: a single nod. When she reached out for his hand and sucked his fingers deep into her mouth, Jon sank slowly onto the bench. As she worked his fingers deep into her mouth he pressed his own lips to her waiting sex. When she lapped at him, he lapped at her. When she circled and suckled, so did he. And when she used the flat of her tongue to lick him from the root of his fingers to the tips, he ran his own along her entire slit. The sound of her moaning made Jon smile against her and he kept smiling as she threw aside his hand and took two fistfuls of his hair, dragging him up her body. Jon found himself more than happy to comply.

 

 

 

Although she’d already sampled her own taste on his fingers, as she brought his mouth down to hers, she got to experience more of it. Spurred on by the realisation that her own arousal currently flavoured his lips and tongue, Daenerys wrapped her legs around his back and pressed her heels against him, forcing the rough fabric of his breeches to brush against her tender flesh. Between her legs, she felt him fuss and fiddle with the ties that kept his cock concealed in cloth. All the while, his tongue continued to fight for power with her own. She smiled into the kiss when she felt his taught, hot flesh spring against her thigh, knowing he’d finally succeeded at releasing himself. Gazing up at him, they both broke from their frantic kissing and stilled, knowing that any second they would both experience the type of bliss others only ever dreamt of.

 

 

In his right hand, Jon held his throbbing cock, ready to steer it headlong into his wife’s waiting cunt. Left forearm resting on the table beside her, his left hand was buried deep into her silver trestles. All that angst… all those nights he’d laid beside her, his traitorous shaft swelling until stiff at the mere thought of fucking her. And yet, here they were, two people so in love they forgot themselves for a little while. Rubbing his swollen tip up and down her slit, he marvelled at how amazing it felt just to feel her against him, let alone fill her. Lining himself up, preparing to push forward, Jon found himself checking once more, knowing he had to do it now or he would not be able to stop. “Are you su…” he began, but before he could even finish, his wife dug her heels hard into his lower back as she simultaneously lifted her body up to meet him. Letting go of his shaft, he allowed his mind to be completely overtaken with the feeling of his prick sinking slowly into his wife. She clung to him, limbs and cunt, dragging him as close as she could. And when he could go no further, he halted, letting all of the breath out of his lungs. _Home_.

 

 

 

While she had tried to act with as much self assured confidence as possible, Daenerys had been holding onto the fear that her insides were not as ready to welcome her husbands intrusions as the rest of her was. But, with him now sheathed snuggly inside of her once again, she could finally let those fears go. _Fuck, it feels good._ As they’d verbally sparred, as he’d described his need for her and she’d acknowledge her need for him, she’d felt her sex become slick and ready for him. It meant he’d been able to push himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, kissing the deepest part of her with his tip. The memory of that feeling made her shudder again.

 

 

Needing more leverage, Jon unwrapped her thighs from around his sides and lifted one, then the other, of her legs up to rest against his shoulders. Groaning at the feel of her insides hugging him just that little bit tighter, Jon pulled out almost entirely before plunging in again. Her thighs he gripped tight to his body as he continued to fuck her. Squirming beneath him, Jon marvelled at the sight of her, laid out before him, just _feeling_. After one particularly deep thrust, he held himself deep, thrilled that he could feel her insides clench and quiver. Gripping onto her left ankle he moved it to the opposite shoulder, then crossed it over the right, essentially crossing her legs and forcing her thighs tight together.

 

 

 

Up until that point, she’d been quietly enjoying every thing he did to her. Sighing as he slipped fractionally deeper, groaning breathily when he altered his speed. But when he crossed her legs, and picked up his steady rhythm again, she couldn’t stop the noise that slipped from between her lips. Lifting her hands, she covered her mouth, afraid that a host of armed guards would breech the doors within seconds if they heard her. On and on he worked at her, his eyes never breaking from hers. It also meant, that as the skin on her back began to tear and  break, she couldn’t hide the pain from him. “My back.” She told him quickly, knowing he would instantly think the worst and stop. “It’s just… the table… against my back.” Slowing to a stop, he licked his lips, then parted her legs, dropping them back down at his sides. Reaching for her, he pulled her upright then lifted her entire body up and off the table, his forearms slipping beneath her thighs. Both hands gripped her back as he hoisted her up. She cried out as she felt him slip from her,  but was silenced by his mouth on hers, his tongue delving deep again. As he continued to worship her with his mouth, he positioned his stiff prick back at her vacant entrance before slowly releasing her, letting her slip back down onto him, the natural weight of her ensuring no resistance was met.

 

 

 

Jon had made love to his wife on every surface of every room they had ever shared. He’d taken her lying down, on her hands and knees, sitting down, even in the pools of Winterfell’s Godswood. But never had he held her in his arms and fucked her standing up, in the middle of a room, like he was currently. Her back was pressed against nothing, her arse perched nowhere. Jon held her body tight against his with just his hands as he used his arms to lift her up and off his cock, then drop her back down again, filling her to the hilt.

 

 

All she could do was hold onto him and let him work. She’d wrapped her arms around his shoulders as soon as he’d lifted her off the table so she didn’t fall backwards. Now, however, Daenerys found herself holding on to him for dear life as he invaded her body over and over again, driving himself deep into her body. She had climaxed quickly, but he wasn’t stopping or slowing down, wasn’t giving her time to recover. The feeling just rolled on, a sensation she had experienced only once or twice before. She had no way to stop him, no way to slow him down, nor did she want to. She was completely at his mercy. She could only submit, and accept what was happening. On and on he went, his grunting and groaning, his growled out words making her realise just how good this was for him. The moment he spilled himself inside her, she would remember forever. He stilled his movements, pulled his lips away from hers and looked at her with utter euphoria. His lips, so swollen and red, parted as he sucked in a sharp breath. His brow creased into a tiny furrow. She _felt_ him twitch within her, felt his hot seed spurting from within him. And then it was over.

 

 

 

When he was done, when he’d given her all that he had, he sank them down onto the discarded bench behind them. Releasing her legs so she could settle them onto the bench either side of him, Jon flinched when he slipped from her cunt. As he caught his breath, she murmured quietly into his neck. “All finished, my love? Have you had your fill of me?” Still unable to form words, Jon traced his fingertips up and down her thighs before taking two handfuls of her behind and hitching her fractionally closer to him. “Had my fill?” He rasped out, painfully aware of her slick slit rubbing against his now-soft shaft. “If I were able to, I’d never stop.” He felt her smile against his skin, which made him smile too. Slowly tipping his head back so he could look at her, he kept their gazes locked as he took hold of her bottom lip between his teeth. Daenerys watched him as he began to gently suck on her lip. Although he’d just been balls deep in her cunt, making her wither and writhe, something about this felt even more intimate. Both startled when a loud knock pierced through the air around them and they turned towards the noise. Two more purposeful knocks followed. Then silence. “My Queen, I’ve been sent to inform you the Princess is awake.” Jon felt his stomach drop as his wife extracted her limbs from his and peeled herself up and off of him. He watched as she retrieved her robe from the floor and slip back beneath its silken covering. She was half way towards the door before she stopped in her tracks.

 

 

 

 _Shit. This is exactly the point he was making._ Daenerys turned on her heel and found her semi-dressed husband still sat on the bench where she’d left him, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor. Knowing it was she, and she alone who could mend the split between her role as mother and wife, she called out to him. “Jon.” He looked up slowly, hurt plain in his eyes. “Will you… come up with me? I… I’d like you there… we like it when you are there with us.” Daenerys swallowed, fear and nerves taking hold as the silence stretched on. Slowly, he stood, awkwardly pulling up has breeches and tucking himself away, lacing the front up carefully. “I think… I think I’ll go for a walk first. I’ll come up later, hm?”

 

 

Jon didn’t even wait for her response, he just laced up his breeches and stepped over the skewed bench before making his way towards the smaller exit at the back of the hall. He knew his refusal would have hurt her feelings, but her immediate abandonment mere seconds after he’d come inside her hurt too. Down the cold corridors and darkened stairways he walked, twisting and turning until he pushed aside one final door and was met with chilly night air. Stood in the dark he sucked in breath after breath after breath, angry tears streaming from his eyes, from frustration or cold, he did not know.

 

 _._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

 

Holding her baby daughter was comforting, sure, but it couldn’t heal the crack in her heart made when the the door slammed following Jon’s departure. Stood there, with his seed dripping slowly down her thighs, Daenerys had felt sick. A single, repeated knock from the large door next to her had served as a painful reminder as to why she had walked away from him in the first place. Returning to their chamber, Missandei passed the screaming infant to her instantly, a look of deep apology etched in her features. “I tried to settle her for as long as I could…” But Daenerys just split open her gown and let the babe latch on to her aching breast. “Could you get me a cloth please?” She asked her friend quietly, standing before the fire. When the damp flannel was pressed into her waiting palm, Daenerys sighed. “Thank you, Missandei. As always.” When her friend looked at her worriedly, she forced a smile onto her lips. “Leave us now,” she whispered gently. “Go back to your chamber. We’ll be fine.” When the young woman’s footsteps faded away, Daenerys reached the cloth between her legs and wiped away all evidence that her husband had been there.

 

 

 

Jon had placed the armchair by the fire for them the night after she had given birth. He said he wanted them both to be warm and comfortable whenever the Princess fed. Sitting in it now, tears steaming down her face, Daenerys wanted him in the flesh, not the memory of him. The babe was reaching her limit, her suckling slowing as she fought sleep. Gazing down at her perfect Cupid’s bow lips, her thickening black curls, Daenerys didn’t hear the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs, so when he spoke, she startled. “Please don’t cry, love. I beg you.” Jon said, walking towards them and falling to his knees. “I’m a fool. A fool who is so in love with you, he can’t see straight sometimes.” As he continued to talk, tears continued to fall from her eyes. “I told you… I was worried you didn’t want me… didn’t need me anymore. And when you tried to show me how wrong I was, I didn’t listen. You asked me to come up with you, and instead I chose to walk away.” Burying his head in her lap, he whispered quietly, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”.

 

 

 

When she wove her fingers into his now-loosened curls, he let out a shuddering sigh. Lifting his head, he looked first at his daughter, then up at his wife, and waited, knowing he had said all he could and it was now her turn to talk. Luckily for him, she didn’t make him wait long. “Fool,” she muttered. “You are a bloody fool, Jon. But… you are my fool. And I love you.” Relief flooded him as she traced his furrowed brow with her free hand, trying to smooth out his frown. When she cupped his cheek in her palm, he turned into it and placed a kiss in the centre. “I’m sorry,” he said again, putting every ounce of love he could into those two words.

 

 

 

It was their daughter who broke the spell. Her own shuddering sigh, just like her fathers, signalling she had drunk her fill. Releasing her nipple from the baby’s mouth, Daenerys looked down at Jon who remained knelt by their side. “Would you like to put her to bed?” She asked him quietly, her stupid nerves creeping in once again. He was on his feet almost immediately, plucking the babe from her arms with such confidence and dexterity she was reminded just how dutiful he’d been since they’d become parents. The sight of their daughter, clutched safely in her fathers arms, always made her realise just how tiny she still was.

 

 

 

Having placed the sleeping babe back in her bassinet, Jon tucked the blankets around her body, marvelling as he always did at her perfection. Whispering a quiet ‘sleep tight Little One’, he turned to locate his wife. Still ashamed of his behaviour, when he found her slipping naked between the sheets, smiling shyly across at him, Jon realised he would do anything to make it up to her, including giving her space. “I… can go? If you want to be alone, love?”

 

 

 

 _Go? Oh, Jon. My brooding, sensitive husband. I don’t ever want you to go!_ Daenerys watched him, stood across the room, waiting for her answer and couldn’t bare for him to suffer any more. “I _want_ to fall asleep beside my husband, if you don’t mind. Get out of those clothes and come to bed, _fool_!” She watched him shrug off his jerkin and lift off his shirt over his head. She watched him untie his laces again and slip his breeches down over his taught thighs. But she had to look away when his prick sprang free. “I’m… sorry,” he muttered sheepishly. “It will settle down soon enough.” Lifting the sheets just as she had, he slipped naked into their bed and lay down next to her. Face-to-face, on their sides, Daenerys swallowed nervously as she thought about what she wanted next. Then she hitched up her leg and very purposely hooked it over his thigh. “Now…  _fool_. Make love to me,” she whispered into his mouth. “Make love to me... slowly… hold onto me tightly… and when it’s done, don’t let me go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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**Notes:**

 

Guys! It's killing me. I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. I've watched the trailer. I've scrolled through the entirety of Tumblr and Reddit and Twitter and Instagram and it's NOT ENOUGH! I had to write something. I'm sure I'm not the only one so I hope this helps a little...


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